Through this confusion the carpenter struggled on;—now ascending, now descending the different mountains of rubbish that beset his path, at the imminent peril of his life and limbs, until he arrived in Fleet Street. There would be ultimate misery, but it would be needless cruelty to give her a push toward it. The weather's been foul enough for the last fortnight, but I've never turned my back upon it. Sheppard, horror-stricken.
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